eyes About to start shit that'll attract the flies And then you hear lies followed by some cries It's about to be a catastrophe We call it a sword style
toothpicks Beat 'em with two whips, with pieces of broken glass glued to it Your whole crew get spayed and neutered As soon as I aim and shoot it, you
and folded that open letter said "dead men walking don't dream" You taped yours, and you told me I could rent it Thought it was invented for my viewing
s medicinal I love it, love it, love it Bitch I love it unconditional [Hook] Roll up a dime I got what you need Bitches they love it, bitches they love it
microphone Yo, rip it and I freaks it, hic-up, freaks it, hic-up When I freaks it with my drunken technique I'm makin' pimps squeak but now it's whacker
gun baby, pump me full of lead It hard to hold you when you movin' vulgar Peace sign on your eyes like John Travolta My pulp ain't fiction, it's an addiction
, you just should of give it My squad bring horror to rap like Wes' Craven Any track I spitted on, I shitted on Anybody disagree'n with that we could get it
from my city they wanna talk smack But they be so wack they aint worth dissing back (Worth Yo (???)) Nope pass it down the line, we call it the train
city, yeah Its goin down, let me introduce you to the fam. Come and meet the Browns. The work goes around and come around like boomerang And we got the trap jumpin' call it
rollin wit us, like co-defendents, no phony business So know the difference - from supreme solo it's the styles ancient as Moses scriptures It's Latin
the glue What lies between is the fiction don't fuck around and make it true My adversaries crumble when we rumble it's a catastrophe I pull revenge
before, what? I get loc'ed after dark Doin' it after dark Doin' it at the park Oh yeah, Loc gets hard Oh yeah, [unverified] gets hard Doin' it after dark Doin' it
hooligan's lament It was dumb, but it was timeless I still don't know what it meant And whatever needs to happen Let it happen, let it be Through all
ear to hear my story. It's all I've got. My fiction beats the hell out of my truth. A palm upturned burnt blue. Don't call it sunburn. You've been shaking
How we gonna pay? Last year's rent? How do you stay on your feet when on every street? It's trick or treat and tonight it's trick Welcome back to town
but you too many things we think that we don't say why cna't you speak you mind? your poisned ideas is what's keeping us back maybe it is a lack of something called
the right and the wrong And they reclaim the things they own They call us now... So candy please forgive these things that I've done When the master race calls
can't let you make the same mistakes i've made. if for a moment i could overcome my fear i wouldn't have to hide behind this fiction wall. sometimes i wonder how i call